


Amnesia

by RadiantCastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, M/M, Supernatural - Freeform, Triggers, Triggers:Alcoholism, Triggers:Anxiety, Triggers:Depression, Triggers:PTSD, Verbal Abuse, writer!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadiantCastiel/pseuds/RadiantCastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel fell in love in the midst of their college life, their relationship was one that could never be duplicated.<br/>They lived normal lives and everything was perfect, until a bleak day in early June when Castiel woke up, alone in a hotel room, with no memory of the past few months.<br/>He was determined to find out what happened, even if it meant changing the way everything was forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea from a book called "Zoe Letting Go." I took some ideas here and there, but a lot of it is different. I suggest the book to anyone, it is wonderful and I really like it a lot. 
> 
> Also there will be some additional Trigger Warnings in this, not right away but they will come. I will be sure to include them in the beginning notes of the chapter they are in.

I remember faintly when I was nine years old, my mom would tell me that the best way to get a hold of your emotions was through writing, especially if that current emotion was anger. I always took her advice for granted and brushed off her wisdom as nothing more than nagging. Now, 16 years later, I couldn't have asked for anything better.

In all honesty, I'm not positively sure why I remember this specific piece of given advice rather than other more important ones I am sure she has told me on several occasions. Maybe it's because I've always aspired to be a writer so this somehow applies to me more than anything else she says, maybe it's just because it's easier to write things down than to say them out loud. I think the main reason is because I like the idea that I could write something down a piece of paper and then I could make it disappear. I could rip it up into hundreds of little shreds and it would be impossible to read, or I could burn it and it would be no more that dark ash, as weightless as a feather. It just simply would no longer exist and I feel like those emotions would just burn away with the words on the paper. I've used this particular technique many times today; it was difficult to decide whether the emotion I was writing down was anger or just flat out frustration. Sometimes the ripping up paper works better than anything, but other times it's just nice to have a pillow around to punch.

Anyway, I'm writing this all down because I need help. I don't mean I need help because I'm being blackmailed and I money for ransom, nothing like that (I doubt writing that down on this piece of paper would help much in that situation anyway). It is much more difficult than that because my problem is not something you can kill or arrest or pay off, no, not at all. My issue is something so much more than that, and somehow so much more frightening.

My issue is that I don't know. Let me rephrase that, my issue is that I don't _remember._  All I know is my name is Castiel Novak and I am in a hotel room somewhere in Colorado. I don't remember my past or even how I got here. All I know for certain is that I am going to find out what happened, no matter what the cost.


	2. June 2nd, 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First real chapter! Hope you enjoy it.

When I woke up this morning, I found myself staring at a white ceiling with a small nearly invisible crack running across it. Normally I would not have given it a second thought and I would have gone into the bathroom and brushed my teeth and gotten ready for the day as per usual. The part that put me off was that my ceiling didn't have a crack in it, not that I could remember anyway. I sat up and looked around only to realize that I wasn't even in my room. I didn't recognize anything around me and the more I thought about it, the more I realized I couldn't remember anything. I didn't even remember my name or where I was from, nothing. The only reason I now know is because I was going through my pants pocket and I found my wallet (I assume it is mine since the photo of the person looks an _awful_ lot like me.) in it along with some wadded up hundred dollar bills. The wallet had a drivers license and a few other forms of identification and important things. As for the money, well I just hope I didn't rob a bank. It would be very unfortunate for me to not remember robbing a bank and getting arrested for it. The situation as it is is unfortunate.

I've been sitting in this hotel room desk for almost over an hour now trying to write a decent entry that could express how I am feeling. All I have written so far is complete shit. I've probably gone through more than seven pieces of paper just trying to get it right. Not to mention two of the times I had to throw the paper away because I got coffee rings and smudges on the flimsy paper. I don't even like the taste of coffee, but it's doing a good job of keeping me awake right now,not to mention its helping me to cure an unbearable headache.

I figure that my main concern at the moment should be figuring out where the hell I am and where I _should_ be. While I scoured the place for information that could help me, I think I managed to freak out a few people along the way. I can only assume how disturbing I looked while trying to look around the lobby inconspicuously for the information I needed. One of the attendants came up to me and asked me if I needed anything. I think they thought I was drunk or high when I asked to see my own records they had of me. Luckily, they told me some helpful information. All I've discovered so far is that I'm in a motel called Cripple Creek Motel in Colorado where I have stayed for the past three nights, my name, my phone number, and what car I drive (which happens to be a stylish red '65 mustang).

I think forgot to mention earlier that when I woke up, the room was littered with empty bottles of pretty much any liquor that you could imagine. The first thought that went through my head was 'Why are there enough bottles to fill a bar in a room occupied by one person? (me).' I haven't quite figured out the answer to that question yet considering most of the bottles were empty and I don't have a raging hangover (a headache would _not_ be considered a hangover). It has now occurred to me that this is the reason the desk attendant may have thought I was drunk. 

Another, slightly more worrying question then passed through my head, 'Was I alone last night?' If the answer is yes, then I have a horrifyingly amazing tolerance to alcohol. If no, then I don't know what I did. What if I had a girlfriend and I ended up being unfaithful and I didn't even know? What if I had an STD or something? Many things could have happened and I just want to beat myself over the head to get myself to remember. Since I know doing that wouldn't help me with anything (besides giving myself a worse migraine), I decided against doing so.

While I sit here and try to think of what I am going to do next, I try to dig up some memories. The process of trying to remember something when you have some sort of amnesia is like going to the beach and digging a hole, and you just keep digging. You just keep digging that hole and end up convincing yourself that if you keep going, you could end up on the other side of the world. Then you get two feet deeper and a giant tide sweeps in and floods the hole, making it all the more difficult to keep digging. Plus you also have the blistering heat pounding on your back with your already sore and red skin. The wind randomly picks up and blows grains of sand into your eyes making you go temporarily blind. Bugs swarm around you and bite you while all you wanted to do was just dig your goddamned hole.

Basically, what I am saying is that trying to reach for memories that aren't there is tiring and seemingly impossible.

After pacing around the room and attempting to write several times (and failing more and more each time around) I made the decision that I was going to figure out why I was here in the first place. Obviously I was here for a reason, so I needed to do that before I could any real work done. I thought that going through my phone would have been a good idea, then I realized I couldn't find one. If I hadn't just learned my own phone number, I would have thought I didn't have one. Then again, who doesn't have a fucking phone now-a-days.

My next thought was that I could go to my car and see what the license plate says. I would assume the license plate has where I'm from on it so I could just drive there and hopefully figure out the next step from there. It was then that I realized I had no idea where my keys were. I swear I checked everywhere at least ten times. I checked my pockets, the cabinets, the bed, the desk, the pillow cases, hell, I even checked the mini fridge. I found nothing.

I went back to the front desk and asked them if they found a pair of keys lying around anywhere. When the attendant (who I now know by the name of ~~Hale~~ Hael) went to the back room to look for them I gained some hope, only to have it smashed when she came back empty handed. I thanked her anyway and went into the parking lot to go find my car. I was hoping that my reckless self would have at least left the door unlocked for my sober, frustrated, and slightly amnesiac self.

When I reached the cherry red Mustang, I peered into the window. Then and there, I would have slapped myself in the face if someone from the motel hadn't walked out into the parking lot. I had locked my keys inside of the car with no windows open. To keep this story slightly shorter, I will spare you the gruesome details of getting my key out from inside. After two bent hangers, a cup of milk warm coffee, and 25 minutes of swearing, I finally got the door unlocked.

In the car there were several brochures, mainly for shitty motels from nearby states. There were also empty cups and fast food bags crumpled underneath the passenger seat that were seriously starting to smell worse than I ever thought fast food bags could (something between a mix of rotting garbage (which is what it was) and a zoo). I also found my phone tucked underneath a pile of crumpled candy wrappers and even more brochures.

I turned on the android and it brought me to the lock screen. I swear, my heart just dropped when I saw a bar show up asking for a passcode. It was only numbers, but there were thousands of possibilities. They weren't like IPhones where you could only have four numbers, there were thousands of combinations. I stared down at the screen and pondered the possibilities. Something about the number three was calling out to me, but I just knew that I was never going to get this. I quickly typed in 2-5-8-0 to see if that was it.

It wasn't.

I decided to not try anymore. I didn't want the phone locking on me and then I would never be able to get back in. I am still hoping that it will just come to me and it will just be a random memory that surfaces. It sure would be helpful, but all I can do is hope at the moment. 

It has now been almost four hours since I've woken up now and I am ready to leave. Something about this room just makes me feel uncomfortable. It may be the fact that I don't know what I've been doing in here for the past three days, but it's also just a gut feeling. There is something about it that makes me want to get it as soon as I can.

I packed up some things around the room in a small suitcase, (that I could only assume was mine since it was in the room) I turned on the TV to the news to see if anything interesting was happening. The reporter talked about the usual tragedies that seemed to happen more and more often now a days. There was a mass shooting out in Arkansas and a wildfire in southern California. The news these days is never good news. Even if it wasn't on TV, anything I here about it always horrible. It's "I got laid off." or "my significant other just had a seizure." or... well you get the idea.

Now I am caught up to the present; I am sitting in the chair with my suitcase packed and the news faintly humming in the background. The light in front of me is dim and it is hard to see the words I am writing down. I think it is about time I get going.

Also, I forgot to mention this earlier, according to my license plate I am from Kansas, but I have no idea where in Kansas I should go to. I have a road map laid out in front of my with pencil lines traced over certain roads and highways to get there. I just hope that the closer I get the more I remember.

God, I just want to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to comment and leave 'Kudos' !


	3. June 4th, 2014

Two days ago I calculated how long it would take to get from Colorado to Kansas City (or Kansas in general). I found out it would take about ten and a half hours to get there if I drove non-stop. However, I did not account for traffic or the fact that I would most likely pull over for a bit and take a nap out of exhaustion. Maybe I am just a naturally forgetful person, but either way, I am still as drained as I have been in as long as I can remember (this was not the best phrase to use, but you get the idea).

I am in Junction City right now in yet another motel room. I hate to admit it, but I liked the other shitty motel better than this shitty motel. At least that one had decent air conditioning for the stale air that seems to be suffocating me more and more with each hour that passes. This motels air conditioning is complete crap, along with nearly everything else.

Late last night when I first arrived here, there was nothing I wanted more than to get a good nights sleep. I feel like I slept for a total of three hours (and do not doubt that that is all I got). The springs on the bed were poking through in multiple places and they occasionally stabbed me in very awkward places (I don't need to write down that it was unpleasant. I think that it a given).

When I woke up this morning I went out to ~~the lobby~~ , ~~check in desk~~ , the place where you first walk in and there is a desk where you check in (I don't know what to call it, I'm sleep deprived.) and I sleepily walked around looking for a coffee machine. I assumed since the last one had one in the room, this place had to have one somewhere. I was wrong. The attendant came over to me and asked what was wrong. I informed her that there was no coffee machine in my room and I was simply looking for one. She then told me that they did not have one. To say I was outraged would be putting it lightly. How much worse could this place have gotten?

So I went back to the room and sulked over my coffee deprivation. Looking back, it was more than a bit childish, but I just wanted my goddamn coffee.

Not all news is bad news today though. I remembered a few things today. Slowly, small little memories have been resurfacing. Not all of them are important ones, but it is something, so it's a start, right?

I remembered that when I was seven years old, when I was learning to ride a bike, I was going down my very long driveway and there was a woman behind me cheering me on, saying how proud she was of me (I can only assume she was mom, she looked a lot like me). My tousled hair occasionally blew in my vision, but it didn't worry me. I was getting so close to the end of the driveway and I could see the road coming up very quickly. My mom was yelling at me to put on the brakes, but I panicked. I tried putting my feet back, but I forgot that I had hand brakes. I was about to go into the road when I clenched my hands around the brakes as abruptly as I could and it brought me to a very sudden stop. So sudden that I ended up flipping over my handlebars and landing on my back, leaving me completely winded and slightly crushed by my bike. 

The sky above me was such a deep blue, there wasn't a single cloud in the sky. Tears stung in my eyes and I felt something sticky and wet on my elbows. I sat up and tried to hold myself in when I heard my mom's feet rushing towards me. I turned around and let a few tears slip down my dirt caked face. She knelt down next to me and helped me up from the ground. I was still crying when she brought me inside. She told me that it was okay, because it was just a mistake, and to learn how to do something right, you have to make mistakes. She dabbed at my elbow that was cut open, I winced at the pain, but she just smiled. I was confused as to why she was smiling at me, but before I could ask she just kissed my forehead. 

"I'm so proud of of you." She put a band-aid on my elbow, and that was that.

When I remembered this, it made me think about what I was doing in Colorado. Maybe it was just a mistake that I was there too. Maybe I was learning something, and I just made a mistake.

I also remembered a few other things, like people. I remember a few people from college and high school. I remember this guy named Benny Lafitte who was a complete jock. I remember how he was friends with some of my friends, so on occasion that made us have to deal with each other. Sometimes he was a cool guy and he was nice enough to my friends and I, but other times, well he was a real asshole.

I now remember my brother Gabriel. I remembered that when we were younger, he would always play pranks on me that were never funny too begin with. I remember on Halloween he would always steal my candy, or basically anything chocolate that he could slip into his pockets, then the next day he would take me to the store and let me get any bag of candy I wanted. He could be a real dick, but he was always the person I would want to go to if I needed to talk. I guess that's what big brothers are there for.

The worst memory that came back was when I was 12 years old and it was the night my dad left. I was hiding in my closet when I heard my mom and dad yelling at each other in the other room. Gabe was in there too, he was trying to defend her. Then something shattered and my mom screamed, I ran out into the kitchen and Gabe was standing in front of her with his knuckles cut and bloody. I turned to my dad and blood was spilling out of his nose and from the corner of his mouth. My mom was still screaming at him to leave, she was unable to even look my dad in the eye. I don't know if she actually meant for him to leave forever, or just for the night, but he did anyway. He grabbed some of his things and he just left. Sometimes it felt like he never even existed, he was never brought up, and no one ever asked about him. We were homeless for a while after that month, and we had absolutely nothing. A lot of nights ended with me crying and Gabriel would tell me to pull it together, because it was the only thing we could do. All we could do was just pull it together for the day. Sometimes, out of selfishness, I wished I had gone with my dad. If I were with him I would have had a home, but then I remembered that he was an abusive, cold man who didn't deserve the love we gave him. Although, I never stopped hoping that someday I could just run away and never return.

I was driving when I remembered that bit with my dad, I had to pull over to the side of the road for a few minutes. I felt like my lungs were collapsing on each other and my heart was racing. My head was throbbing and every part of me felt like it was about to implode. I frantically opened compartments in the car looking for something, anything. I gripped onto the steering wheel and tried as hard as I could to steady myself, but I felt like I was losing control rather than gaining it. I tried to think of something calming but everything I thought of somehow turned stressful. Waterfalls just became static screams in my ears, an open field suddenly turned into a raging fire, nothing was working.

The feeling of guilt ran through my veins and burned me, I was running away again. I was running away from something and I no doubt hurt some people in the process of my fleeing. Every time I closed my eyes I could just hear the echoes of my mom's screams and pleas for help, I was a coward. I ran away from something I knew I could have fixed. All I do is run away when something breaks, because that's what cowards do.

I closed my eyes and let my thoughts continue to overwhelm me, then I thought of ~~something~~  someone. 

I still don't remember them too well, but I know that whoever they are, they are what got me through the panic attack I was having. It was just a small memory, not much, but somehow enough.

I remembered laying on a bed, but not like the one in the motel room. This bed was soft and warm; it was comforting and it felt like home. There was music playing in the background, I think it was from a movie. The side of the bed slowly was pressed down as someone else moved into bed next to me. One of their arms wrapped around my shoulders and my head rested on their shoulder. A soft kiss was planted at my hairline and I grinned as the warmth of their lips was pressed against me. I looked up into their eyes and all I saw was the most beautiful green I could have ever recalled. Then I was calm. That's all the memory was, and it felt like home.

That was when I went to the nearest motel and checked in for the night. While I was laying in that uncomfortable, stiff bed, I kept thinking back to that one memory. I stared at the ceiling fan that was spinning around and around. I don't know how long I laid in that bed for. All through the night I felt fearful and anxious, like there was something keeping me awake just for the sake of torture. Eventually I drifted into sleep, but only momentarily.

The dream I had was vague and short, but I know that the person with the green eyes was there with me. We were talking and it seemed very mundane. We were back in bed, watching what I assumed was the same movie. Everything about it made sense, everything except what they were saying. I would have thought it was reality except for the fact that everything they were saying was complete gibberish.

First it was just incoherent mumbling, then they started saying times. They would say "It's 3:00." and then they would wait, and they would say it again. They would say "It's 3:00." I was going to ask what they were talking about because it was obviously not 3:00, it was dark outside. Unless they meant three in the morning, but it still made no sense to me as to why they were saying it was 3:00. I hadn't asked for the time.

"It's 2:00." They said. This time I turned and looked at the clock and there was no time on it, it was written in bold white letters. 

"ERROR" and nothing else.

"It's 6:00." Their previously calm voice was starting to get annoying, and frankly, it was beginning to feel scary, like this dream was turning into a nightmare. At this point I knew I was dreaming, but I could not get myself to wake up. The clock was flashing brightly with the word, 'ERROR' written on it. The person next to me kept repeating the same times.

"It's 3:00."

"It's 3:00."

"It's 2:00."

"It's 6:00." They repeated constantly and it became more monotonous and robot like as they went on. I willed myself to wake up from the strange nightmare. I pinched myself, I hit my leg, I even slapped myself (hard). Nothing was working. I looked back over to my left and they were gone, whoever was there with the beautiful green eyes was gone, but their voice still rang through the room. The light next to me still blinked with the same message on it. 

I rolled over to get out of bed and get the hell out of there, but when I put my feet down to touch the ground, there was nothing there. It was complete darkness, and before I could stop myself, I fell down. I fell down off the bed and fell into complete darkness and I just kept falling and falling into nothing-

Then I hit the ground, tangled in my blankets. There was a cold sweat broken out on my face and chest. I looked around me, panicking and breathing heavily. I was back in the motel room. I looked at the digital clock and it said 4:19. I don't think I have ever been so relieved to wake up.

I went into the bathroom and I splashed myself in the face with some cold water. Have I mentioned how annoying those facewash commercials are? It is impossible to splash your face with water and not get your shirt and the whole counter soaking wet as well, those commercials are complete bullshit.

Once I was finished drying myself off, I sat down in the bed and stared at nothing but the emptiness of the shadowed room. From the corner of my eye, there was a dim light blinking. At first I thought it was the clock and I tensed immediately. When I looked over, I realized it was only my phone. I let out a breath that I was unaware I was holding, and then a sudden realization hit me.

The four numbers, my phone, it was the passcode. Somewhere in my mind, I knew I remembered the passcode so I told myself through my dreams (of course it was in a partially creepy way, but hey, it worked).

I grabbed my phone and punched in the number 3-3-2-6. It opened. I audibly sighed in relief and began to search through it trying to find some information to help me with what to do or where to go. I scrolled through some pictures and found almost nothing. There were only two pictures on it, one was a phone number that was messily scrawled onto a dirty napkin and the other photo was of me and Gabe (so I assume). It looked like the Gabe in my dream, so I am pretty sure it was him. Then I went into my contacts and only found two numbers. One was labeled "Meg" and the other was "Gabriel". I looked back at the photo with the number on the napkin and it didn't match either of the numbers that was already in my contacts, so I told myself I would call them in the morning at a more decent hour.

I placed my phone back on the side table and laid down in bed, staring up at yet another unfamiliar ceiling. I don't know what I was thinking, because somewhere in my mind I knew that I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep after this. Twenty minutes later I grabbed my phone and unlocked it, I went to Gabe's number and called him.

The phone rang a few times and then there was a long pause, it then went to voicemail. I felt my heart drop slightly when I realized that he was most likely sound asleep, not worrying about a thing, I should have figured he wouldn't pick up at this ungodly hour. I then went to Meg even though I didn't know who she was. After I pressed call, it went automatically to voicemail. Either she really didn't want to talk to me or her phone was off. I went to my last resort and started typing in the number from the photo on my phone, when I was interrupted by Gabe calling me back. I picked up instantly, feeling overwhelmed by excitement and anxiousness. What was I supposed to say? A casual hello? How was he going to respond? I didn't think it through, I didn't know what I was doing. My hand shook violently as I managed to utter out one word.

"Gabriel?" I asked eagerly.

"Cas, oh my god, it is you. You're okay right? You're not hurt or anything?" I could tell Gabriel was tripping over his own words (as was I). Under other different circumstances, I'm sure I would have laughed, but not this time. This was completely different.

"I'm okay, I mean I think. I feel fine. Gabe I have a problem." I stuttered.

The other end went silent for a minute, I was afraid he'd hung up. "Gabe?" I asked.

"It's feels like it's been years since you've called me that, Cas, what is going on?" Now he seemed overly worried, (okay maybe not overly, he had a pretty good reason to be worried now that I'm thinking about it. I also wondered but never asked, why had I never called him Gabe? Did he not like pet names? Did we end up having some sort of sibling rivalry I didn't remember and we were on a strict birth-given name basis? Although I was dying to know, I knew that it was not the time to ask).

I took a deep breath and was getting ready to tell him what was going on. "Okay, well I woke up two days ago in a motel in Colorado-"

"Colorado?" He seemed stunned at this, even though it wasn't that far away, I mean, it's not across the country or anything. "What the fuck were you doing there?"

"That's the thing Gabe- I-" I stopped when I heard mumbling on the other end of the line. It was hard to make out anything that was being said.

"I'm sorry baby brother, you have to call me back in the morning. Promise me you will call back the moment you are up?" He spoke quickly and sharply. I nodded in agreement before I forgot he couldn't see me.

"Yeah, yeah I promise. I'll call you in the morning."

"Good, talk to you then." He hung up quickly after our brief conversation.

Now that I am more awake than I was when I called him, I've registered how abnormal he was acting, but last night I was too tired to notice it. I turned off my phone and put it on the nightstand. I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow, I didn't know how tired I was until I had time to think about the action of falling asleep.

* * *

 

I forgot to call him back once I woke up because I just wanted to get out of the motel. I packed up my things and checked out almost as soon as I got up. I was now only an hour away from Kansas City and I was determined to get there and just figure things out once and for all. I don't know why I chose Kansas City, but I just guess it was a good place to start.

Currently, I am writing this entry in yet another motel in Kansas City and I am waiting for Gabe to get here. I called him back once I arrived here and he sounded as if I killed a man when he answered. "Castiel, you said you would call me the minute you woke up! It's almost three in the afternoon!" He was fuming at me. I tried to calm him down, but I suppose Gabe is as persistent as I am.

I told him all I wanted to over the phone and asked if there was a way that he could get here tonight. He said he would book a flight as soon as he could and that he would get here within four hours if he could help it. 

I felt bad not telling him everything, in fact, I told him almost nothing. I told him that I woke in Colorado and couldn't remember how I got there (which was true, to be fair) I just didn't tell him I didn't remember the rest of my personal life either. So here I am writing, waiting for him to get here. I don't know why I feel so nervous about this, should I feel nervous and guilty like I do? I don't know.

It is currently 5:24 in the afternoon and I have done nothing for the past two hours. I've done nearly everything I can in this place, I re-folded all my clothes at least three times. I walked around the whole motel twice and been to the vending machine and back more times than I would care to admit. I feel like I would be better if I went out and drove for a bit, and I've just decided that's what I'm going to do. Gabriel said he would be here within four hours, technically, I still have about two hours left. I feel like that is enough time to get a short drive in. 

I hope some of this anxiety and guilt that has built up will be more broken down by the time I get back. I can't risk making things awkward between Gabe and I, I feel like he is the only person I have left.


	4. June 5th, 2014

Yesterday when I left the motel, I wasn't planning on any of the following events to happen, then again, who really does?

As I said, it was yesterday when I left the motel. Right before I was about to leave I opened up my phone just to make sure there wasn't anything I missed from a few hours previously. While I sat in my cherry red Mustang, almost ready to go on my miniature drive, I remembered there was another number that I hadn't called because of Gabe. I did the rational thing that anyone would do; I called the number. It was the only other person that I could have a possible connection to other than Gabe (and Meg who did not answer me). I dialed the number that was scrawled onto the napkin and it began to ring. I started the car and was pulling out when a female voice answered.

"Hello?" She answered.

"Hi, uhm, it's Castiel, Castiel Novak and I have a question for you." I told her blatantly. How was I supposed to call someone and tell them I don't know who they are but I need their help? Probably not a common situation people are put into. Nonetheless, I was put into it and I needed some answers to my endless amount of questions.

"Castiel... Cas! I admit, I didn't think I'd be the first person you'd call, it's been a while. What do you need?" She sounded surprised, but sweet at the same time. I felt like I could trust her, despite limited memory of her, well, no memory of her. 

I wasn't as nervous then as when I had first called her. "Okay everything is really difficult to explain right now so I can't go too into depth, look, are you in Kansas? Or anywhere near Kansas right now? Could you get here in a few hours if you needed to?"

I heard a small giggle on the other end, she almost sounded like she was shocked by the question. "Cas, I live in South Dakota. I have almost my whole life, you know I'm not in Kansas. What do you need? Are you alright?"

At that moment, I sighed a little louder than I had hoped to.

"Cas..." She sounded more worried than she had before. I could tell that I made her worried, which was really the last thing I wanted to do. I don't even know her without sounding completely idiotic. Well, I did, but I didn't want to get into it. "It'll okay, are you alright Cas?"

I told her that I was fine but it took a little more convincing to make her believe me. I eventually ended up pulling into a gas station parking lot and telling her about my memory loss. To say the least she was hesitant about believing me, but then because astonished that I was indeed telling the truth.  In fact, she sounded sorry for me the more we talked, which I became gradually more confused about. I mean, it sucks right now, but memories come back eventually, right? She told me more about her since it was apparently clear that I had no idea who she was (she said from the moment she saw I called her, she knew something wasn't right). Her name is Jo Harvelle and she used to be friends with me and a few people back when we all went to Kansas State University. After she graduated she moved back to South Dakota to be by her mom and step-dad (who I had supposedly met on more than a few occasions). She helped me out with a few people that I should know (not to mention hearing their names helped surface a few minor memories).

I now know these people:

  * Jo Harvelle (college friend)
  * Gabriel Novak (brother)
  * Ellen Harvelle (Jo's mother)
  * Bobby Singer (her step-dad)
  * Dean Winchester (her ex/one of my college friends)
  * Sam Winchester (Dean's brother/ mutual friend)
  * Meg Masters (ex girlfriend(?))



I suppose those are the basics of the people I know. She told me a few stories while I flipped through some random brochures that were crumpled and stuffed under my seat. Some stories were from college, some from when we would hang out with Dean and (his now ex-girlfriend) Anna. When she talked about Dean, she seemed a bit hesitant. I know she said that they had once dated and broken up (according to her, he broke up with her (and did some pretty horrible things)). I considered the idea that she still had feelings for him and that's why she sounded so wavery on the subject of him... it makes me think about where he is now and if he is dating someone else. I even wonder if Jo knows anything about him now. 

I continued sat in the parking lot for another half hour before Jo and I said goodbye. I decided I should go back in case Gabriel arrived earlier than expected. I was driving back and went through a small town where I was running low on gas (I don't know how I ran low considered I was parked for a good amount of time). I pulled into a station and put in a few gallons, I almost didn't have enough money (considering I left most of it in the safe at the motel). Gas was just getting way too fucking expensive these days. I decided I was hungry and went inside to get a bag of chips. 

I walked into the gas station and picked up a small bag of Doritos (that were also way too expensive considering it is half filled with air). I walked up to the counter and placed it in front of me while I dug in my wallet for some change. As I pulled out some cash, the girl behind the counter just stared at me in this odd way. I tried to brush it off until her pondering stare turned into a smug grin.

As I recall, she said, "Hello there, angel face. Long time no see."

The girlish canadian accent caught me off guard, I assume it showed on my face because she started laughing at me. I couldn't help but feel slightly offended (and violated in a way). She said, "How are you doing Clarence? Have you been traveling?"

This only confused me to no end, I know my name is Castiel, so why was she calling me Clarence? I corrected her, thinking that she had the wrong person. Maybe I just had a familiar face. She confirmed to me that she knew my name was Castiel but that she used to call me Clarence. It was then that I figured out who she was. I glanced down at her nametag and suppressed a small sigh.

"Meg?" I asked her. She nodded her head and leaned over the counter slightly. She eyed me up and down, it was hard to tell if she was suspicious of me or just getting a good look in. Either way, I felt extremely uncomfortable. 

"What's different about you Castiel, you aren't your usual ray of sunshine, are you? What's wrong?"

There was something about her I didn't trust (I found it odd that I would have dated her, although I would not deny that I did. She was... very attractive to say the least) but I felt odd not telling her what happened with me. I didn't tell her the whole truth, I just said that I've been gone for a bit and I'm just coming back home to see how everyone is. It didn't look like she bought it one bit, but she nodded and smirked at me in the seemingly sensual way she does.

"So, are you doing alright? Are you okay?" She asked with her usual seemingly sarcastic tone. 

There was something about the way she talked that always made it seem like she was being sarcastic, but this time I knew she was not. What was it with people asking me if I was alright? I am not injured in any visible way and I don't have some incurable illness. I don't look that bad (I hope), so why do people keep asking me if I am alright?

I told her that she was not the first person to ask if I was alright or not, and I wanted to know why everyone was asking me that. Her superior confidence seemed to die down as soon as I said this. Her constant sly grin dimmed and it made a very noticeable effect on her mood. I hadn't even noticed before, but the way she holds herself is much of who she is. Once her barriers go down, so does everything else about her. 

As soon as I asked that question, her walls came down, I became very  _very_ nervous.

"Oh honey, with what happened with you and Dean I figured you'd have drowned in a puddle of tears and vodka by now. Everyone knows why you left Castiel, I am just surprised you bothered coming back." 

Her words seemed harsh, but coming out of her mouth, they seemed more like words of sorrow and despair. I felt goosebumps bristle my arms and the back of my neck. I rushed to throw a five dollar bill on the counter and mumble a goodbye as I ran out the door.

I got in my car and sped down the road as quickly as the speed limit would allow. It took me a while to realize I had left my bag of Doritos behind. 

* * *

 

Once I arrived at my motel room, Gabriel called me 15 minutes later telling me that he just got out of baggage claim and that he needs to know which motel I was at. I told him which one and he said it would only be 20 minutes.

So I waited, and I waited, and I waited. I waited for the longest 20 minutes of my life when Gabriel was driving here. That little amount of time felt like a millenium because the only thing that I could think of was Meg and what she said to me before I rushed out. 

 _"Everyone knows why you left Castiel,"_   why did I leave? Was it that big that everyone knew about it?  _"I am just surprised you bothered coming back."_   What could have happened between Dean Winchester and I that was so bad that I had to leave? I wish I had his number, I could just call him and ask him what the hell is going on. Even his brother would be enough, Sam was his name. I just wish I could have cleared things up already. I was just so sick of being completely alone and clueless.

I was staring off into space thinking about what Meg said when there was a knock on the door. I dragged myself off the sad excuse for a bed and opened the door. A short, blonde haired man stood in the door. From how I remember Gabriel in some of my memories, I would have expected him to be bright and smiling, jumping on me instantly like a puppy seeing it's owner.

He looked hollowed out, he looked tired. He also looked relieved, but at the same time, he looked disconsolate. He seemed so out of touch with almost everything, all I know is that he was not the Gabriel who protected my mom and I from our abusive and constantly absent dad. This was not the Gabriel who would buy me candy the day after Halloween because he would steal mine, this was just not my brother. I remember him now, and this, this was just not him.

Gabriel stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. His grip felt strong enough to choke the life out of me (in that moment, I strongly remembered him playing an 'innocent' game of wrestling with me as a child). Finally, he pulled away and stared at me for a moment. He looked like he was soaking in the image of me, afraid that if he blinked or turned away for a moment, I would just disappear. I very quickly made a promise to myself, I was never going to leave without giving warning again. I couldn't put someone through that again.

"I can't believe you're back," He told me, "I am so relieved you're back." 

I felt vexation flourishing inside of me. My cheeks were getting bright red and my face was pulled taut and sour. I don't remember much of what I said now, but I just felt words tumbling out about how I had no idea what was happening to me. Everything came out at once. I told him how I woke up in Colorado in a motel and I didn't know who I was. I told him how I called Jo and saw Meg and everything they said to me. I even told him how the last thing I remembered before waking up was laying in bed with someone with beautiful green eyes. I told him how confused I was and how I wanted to know what happened to Dean and I. I asked him what could have happened between Dean and I that would have caused me to leave and not come back.

I wish he hadn't told me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, remember to comment or leave 'Kudos' !  
> Next chapter will have some graphic stuff in it, just a pre-warning.


	5. Remembering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be some graphic displays in this as well as some triggering things, they may include:  
> Violence  
> Crude Language  
> Homophobic Retorts  
> Depression/Suicidal Thoughts

I remember now. I need to find Sam so I can talk to Dean.

I remember everything.

 

* * *

 

He was looking at me, for the first time in as long as I could remember I felt self conscious. The feeling was so foreign to me that I almost didn't recognize it. I always noticed him when he walked into the room.

I would sit in the third, slightly to the right. It was the same every day. He would walk in only a few seconds before the bell rang, he acted cocky and full of himself but everyone knew it was an act. He would never actually be late on purpose or make himself look like a douche to be cool, that just wasn't the kind of person he was.

Today was no different than any other day. I stared at the clock right above the double doors. There was seven seconds left until the lecture would start and everyone would start taking notes. Jo Harvelle sat next to me, talking to me joyously about how she just got a new job and other things she was always so ecstatic about. 

Four seconds left and he walked in. Dean Winchester strolled into the room without a care in the world. I, as usual, observed him nonchalantly as he walked past Jo and I. He was heading up to his usual seat in the very back. I was pretending to stretch and turned around to get another look at him. I didn't mean to seem creepy or stalkerish, but he was just so  _gorgeous._ It was then that I realized he was no longer going up the steps to sit by his friends in the back row. He was sitting in the row right behind Jo and I. I didn't even realize I was staring at him until he waved at me. My face turned beat red and I turned around.

 _He was looking at me._  

I felt awkward about my feeling for Dean, knowing that Jo had dated him and has a particular distaste to him now. She always says she doesn't hate him, she just hates what he did. She never went into much detail about it, but she would always say "It's bad enough for me to not want to bring it up again, just leave it at that, Cas." and I would. I would not press any further. 

I could see Jo out of the corner of my eye. Her jaw was set tautly and her cheeks were getting a lot of color. 

 _He's sitting here to talk to_   _her,_ I thought,  _he isn't interested in you, idiot._ I thought it was impossible for my face to get any more red than it already was, but it happened. I felt embarrassed and disappointed in myself that I thought Dean Winchester would sit behind me  _because_ of me when Jo Harvelle was sitting next to me.

The lecture went on and on, but the whole time it just sounded like buzzing in my ears. All I could think about what Dean sitting behind me, god I felt just like and eighth grade girl.

I scribbled down useless words onto the paper in front of me with a black pen, I kept writing down notes when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and my breath hitched.

"Hey it's Cas right, Castiel?" It was Dean. 

"Uh, yeah, I'm- yes." I stuttered.  _Goddamnit could you be anymore obvious?_

"Well, just thought I'd let you know your pen isn't working." He pointed down at my paper. I glanced down and noticed that my notes had cut off and I was scribbling nothing down onto the paper. My face was on fire. "Here's a working pen."

"Thanks." I muttered and accepted then pen from him. He smiled at me and leaned back to write his own notes. I turned back to my own and sighed. I continued writing throughout the whole lecture, but I really wasn't paying any attention.

Once the lecture was over, I packed up my things and got ready to go to. I guess I was going slow today because Jo was impatiently tapping on her desk waiting for me.

"You go," I told her, "I'm going home anyway, this was my last class for today."

She looked like she was about to refuse, but then remembered she had another class to go to. "Alright, I'll talk to you later Cas." She smiled and strode out the door.

I finished putting my books away and started to walk down the aisle when I heard my name being called. "Hey Cas! Wait!" I turned around and saw Dean rushing down the steps towards me. "Cas!" I felt my cheeks, that were finally back to normal color, flare once again.  _Stay cool Cas, stay cool._ "Hey." Dean spoke coolly.

"Hey." I replied. 

"So I saw you sitting by Jo, are you guys friends?" He asked me.

My heart dropped ever so slightly, but I attempted to not let it show on my face. "Yeah, were friends."

Dean smiled brightly, "Could you tell her- you know what? Nevermind, I can tell her myself. It's not your place to apologize for me." Dean decided and I nodded in reply.  _Well, this just got extremely awkward._

"Yeah, sure." I said getting ready to walk away, but Dean caught me by the arm.

"So, how long have you been going here?" He asked me. 

I thought about it for a moment, trying to remember how long I had been going to here. "Two years, I'm majoring in art and 

studying to be an author," I replied, hoping I didn't sound like a complete idiot, "what about you?"

"Well, you're going to need a working pen to be an author," Dean laughed and I forced one along with him. I didn't find it all too funny, in fact, it was quite embarrassing. "and I'm planning on being a direction, so I'm majoring in art as well."

I nodded, not knowing what else to say. 

"What do you say we go to the aquarium?" Dean asked.

Shocked, I turned to him an gave him an odd look. It was an odd request and I wasn't sure how to respond to it. If he would have said movie, or park, or dinner, or something like that, it would have been fine, but an aquarium?

"Uh,"

"Oh come on," Dean pressed, "are you afraid the fish will bite? It'll be fun, I heard you say to Jo that you don't have any more classes today and neither do I, so why not?" He cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. He had this way of smiling that just made me turn to jell-o, my stomach felt like it was on fire and I couldn't say no.

"Great!" Dean replied enthusiastically, "we can drop your stuff off in your dorm or apartment, or wherever you are, or you can just leave it in my car if you want. Then we can go." Dean walked out the door and turned around to see if I was coming. My mind willed me to move and to do anything but stand there, but I was paralyzed. My feet felt like they were superglued to the floor.

"You coming?" He asked. I nodded and finally my feet broke free from the ground. I walked next to him and we went out to the parking lot, Dean's car was a '67 Chevy Impala, and it was a nice one. I saw it and whistled in admiration. "You like it?" he asked.

Once again, I was speechless. I've been speechless more today than I have in the rest of my life combined. "Absolutely, it looks great. I love classics, I have a '65 Mustang." I don't know why I was telling him this, but he looked impressed, so I wasn't complaining.

"That's a nice one, it was actually my second choice, but this car is my baby, I wouldn't trade her for the world. So whatdya say we go drop your stuff off?"

I nodded and got into the passenger seat and buckled myself in. I gave him the directions to my apartment and he let me run my things in. I managed to grab some money before running back out, just in case.

We drove a while listening to Metallica and Bon Jovi  before we pulled into the parking lot of the aquarium. I had never been here before so I wasn't sure what to expect, aquariums weren't really my 'scene' and they didn't seem like Dean's either. We walked up to the ticket booth and Dean asked for two tickets. I pulled out my wallet to pay for my own when Dean pushed my hand back. 

"I got it." I was about to protest before he payed the man in the booth and we were given two tickets.

"I can pay for my own ticket." I told him, somewhat pissed off. 

Dean chuckled, "I know that, but I'm the one who dragged you out here, so why not?" He handed me my ticket and I thanked him while I took it.

We walked into the large dome shaped room. I had never been here before, so I wasn't sure what to expect. Now that I thought about it, I don't think I had ever really been to an aquarium on it's own before. Sure I had been to the zoo's that had small sections with fishtanks, but nothing completely dedicated to the aquatic species. I always did find it fascinating that we could as humans could be so impressed and obsessed with something that we can't even speak to. Then again, maybe that's what makes animals so interesting.

There were two different ways you could go through the building, you could turn left or right. I looked through each tunnel and found that the left one looked more crowded than the right.

"Let's go this way." I offered and Dean followed slowly after me. 

The hallways were dim and it was difficult to see where I was stepping, but I didn't even notice. The walls and ceiling were made of thick glass that made the barrier between the fish and the humans. I walked over to the glass and stared through at the marine creatures that I never even knew existed. I gaped at them, even though some of them were quite possibly the most horrific looking things I've ever seen, they looked beautiful in a mutant way. I can't say why I was so infatuated with them, I just was.

I continued forward and heard Dean's steps following me down the dark hall that was practically cleared of people. The floor soon became glass as well and stingrays as well as other fish swam underneath my feet. I stopped in my tracks and gazed down at the see-through ground. I crouched down to touch the ground and a fish came up towards me, it tapped it's mouth against the glass where my finger was. I felt the corners of my lips tug up into a smile. 

A hand touched my shoulder and I snapped out of my trance. 

"If you think this is cool, I have to show you something. You'll love it." Dean beamed as he practically tore me up from my crouching position. I didn't even feel angry or taken aback, just excitement. I needed to do this more often.

The further we traveled into the dome, the more crowded it got. Dean led me through with a tight grip on my wrist to make sure I didn't get lost in the mass of people that was quickly condensing. My mood depleted from the sound of whining children and frustrated parents, I didn't try to be so antisocial and grumpy around others, but working with people wasn't my strong suite. I found out a long time ago that I was more of a listener and observer than a talker and partaker. 

Finally, Dean brought me into one of the largest rooms in the whole building. It had the same dome shaped roof and curved walls as the entrance had, but in here it was almost pitch black, almost. 

This room was filled with glowing jellyfish. They were all different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some of them were flat and had thick tentacles while others were rounded like a mushroom with thin, stringy tentacles. There was one that was directly above my head that could have been the size of a car. My jaw dropped as the swarms of jellyfish floated around. All the sounds of children around me got drowned out and the only thing I was paying attention to was the boneless fish. 

I stood there, in amazement for as long as I could remember. Dean led me over to the wall where I could stand next to them and me face to bell with them. I gawked at them for what felt like hours; it took me just as long to noticed Dean's hand was pressed against mine, not holding, but just enough to know he was there.

 

* * *

 

It felt like forever, when in reality it had only been nine months. It started May 30th, a Thursday. Dean WInchester took me to an aquarium and I knew it was all over for me. Whatever had started as a small crush blossomed and grew into something immeasurable, something infinite, and something irreplaceable. 

Now, nine moths later we were together. It was unfathomable to imagine that Dean felt the same way, but once he convinced me that he did, it just happened. 

I talked to Jo about it, just to make sure everything was okay with her about us. She told me that she had a suspicion after they dated for a while that he had a thing for me. She told me that he was distracted when I would come around, but I didn't believe her. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that she was right. When I would head over to Jo's place for something and Dean was there, he would instantly straighten out once I walked through the door. He would smile and act polite, but not necessarily say anything to me. For a minute, I thought he could have been intimidated, but that thought left as quickly as it came when I realized how ridiculous the idea of Dean being intimidated by me was.

Today was like any other day in February, except warmer. It was uncharacteristically warm in Kansas and I was in the kitchen making eggs.

It was Saturday and Dean and I were supposed to go see a hockey game today at 2:00, so I was in a rush to get things done this particular morning. 

Once everything was cooked and I had a glass of orange juice set and ready to drink, I sat at the table and dove into my food. I still had yet to take a shower and finish getting ready and Dean was supposed to be here within the hour. 

I was about halfway through my plate when there was a knock on my door. I hastily got up and simultaneously chewed my food as I rushed to the door. I checked the peephole quickly to make sure it was Dean, if it wasn't, I was going to have to put on more than a robe. Luckily, it was him, so I opened the door right up.

"Hey." Dean smirked as he leaned against the door frame. I felt heat rush into my cheeks as I stared at him admiringly. 

"Come in." I beckoned to him as he stepped through the door.

"I plan on it," he grinned, "so are you almost ready to go?" He sat himself on my small futon. Dean visited so often that this was basically his home. He often told me about his brother Sam who was planning on going to Stanford. I've met him multiple times, but he still never shut up about him. Something tells me it was partially because of their dad, who sure didn't act like one. Whenever Dean wasn't here or at school, he was taking Sam out somewhere to get away from their dad who was drunk 90 percent of the time.

"I just need to hop in the shower and then I'll be ready," Dean rolled his eyes then looked back at me, "I'm sorry, running late this morning."

Dean just chuckled softly. "Don't you mean every morning?" He laughed and walked with me as I put my dish and cup away.

"What are you doing?" I asked him as he followed me around.

"Joining you." he smirked as we walked towards the bathroom.

I instantaneously felt blood rush to my cheeks and the tips of my ears. I shook my head at him. "If that happens, we will be more late than we already are." I declined him unwillingly. 

"We might as well make it worth it." he tried working his way through the door and leaned his head towards mine. I leaned in towards him and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"Love you!" I whispered quickly and shut the door in his face, I would have locked it, but I felt like that pushing it a bit too far.

I heard him mutter something of disapproval on the other side of the door and then say 'Good morning to you too.' I laughed quietly and turned on the water.

Steam quickly filled the room and I stepped into the small shower. Hot water pierced my back and I quickly rinsed myself off. Showers were not something that passes quickly for me, so taking one quickly tended to be a challenge for me. I lathered my hair and conditioned it as fast as I could and jumped out of the shower. I dried off and then ran into my room to change into my casual clothes for the day.

When I stepped out into the living room, Dean was waiting patiently, reading a piece of paper. It took me a moment to realize what it was.

"Oh, don't read that!" I rushed over to grab the paper from Dean, but he stood up and held it away and continued to read.

_"Forever I'd look,_

_Into your eyes of pure green,_

_I'm lost in their light,"_   Dean read out loud. " _I fear, this is love,_

_To have but never to hold,_

_To praise from afar."_

I stopped grabbing for it and looked away from him. I had meant to put my folder away before he got here, but I was so caught up in getting ready that I hadn't realized I still left it out. It was filled with poems and snippets of books I'd written, and basically anything that was mine from the beginning of high school that I thought was worthy of being kept. I remembered making that one in the first semester of school when I first met Dean. I should have thrown it out. 

"Did you write this?" Dean asked with an amused look on his face, but I still couldn't get myself to look at him, so I just nodded shyly.

"It's pretty good Cas, I mean, it's all very romantic and mushy of you." I slapped his arm playfully and tried to grab it back from him. "One more, please just one more?" He asked. I would have said no, but I made the mistake of looking him straight in the eye. His lips were pouty, and the light was hitting him just right...

"God dammit, fine." I muttered and he happily turned his attention back to the paper.

_"I wait and I wait,,_

_For the words I'll never hear_

_'I love you' you'd say,_

_But you do not feel the same,_

_Wherefore I'd let this happen?"_   Dean paused once he finished the poem. "I recognize the first two, those were  _Haikus_ , but what is this one?"

I looked at the piece of paper he showed to me, I remembered writing that one. I wrote it after I realized how I felt and then Jo started dating him, I was crushed to say the least. All I could ask myself was 'Why did I let this happen?'

"It's called a  _Tanka,"_ I explained, "it's almost exactly like a  _Haiku_ but it has another line at the end with another seven syllables. So it goes, five, seven, five, seven, seven. It's japanese just like  _Haikus_ and they are commonly about nature, seasons, friendships, and heartbreak at that." I finished, but Dean hardly looked up from the paper. I figured he knew by now that it was about him.

He looked like he was about to say something, but I quickly cut him off. "What do you say we get to that hockey game? I don't want to miss it." I grabbed the paper and tucked it away into the folder. 

Dean nodded in agreement and I put the folder back onto the table. We walked out the door silently and Dean silently intertwined his fingers with my own. I smiled to myself and we walked out to his car. 

The rest of the day went by normally and happily, but Dean seemed put off, and I couldn't help but wonder what he wanted to say.

 

* * *

 

Another month had passed by and things were getting rough. It seemed like nothing had changed, but in reality, nothing seemed to be the same.

Dean still dropped by almost everyday and spent the night nearly every weekend and many weekdays, but he was more irritable. His typical theatrical personality was growing dim and reserved; whenever I tried to bring it up to him, he quickly changed the conversation to something else. I noticed something in myself changing as well, I was more snappy and I didn't enjoy company much. I never enjoyed it much in the first place, but now even friends like Jo and Dean seemed to get on my nerves when they stopped by. Writing to me was becoming more of a chore than a hobby, so even thinking about writing was putting me in bad spirits.

It was March 27th, 2014. Dean called me in the morning and said that tonight we was stopping over by his Dad's house to pick up Sam and he was going to stop over with him. Unlike most things, this made me feel almost joyous. I still loved seeing Dean, but it was nice to see an old face every now and then. I hadn't seen Sam in weeks, so I was overjoyed to hear that he was bringing Sam over.

Dean called me when it was 11:02 in the morning. Whenever he called me about going to get Sam and then coming over, he typically got here around 6:00, sometimes 7:00. So when it was almost 9:00 and I hadn't received a word from Sam or Dean, I got worried. Before I stormed over to their house and demanded to know where they were like a scene from a soap opera, I called Dean's phone, it rang and rang, but there was no answer. It went to voicemail and I hung up knowing that he wouldn't check it. I then called Sam's phone and it didn't ring at all, it just went straight to voicemail. Normally, I wouldn't worry, but there was something different in Dean's tone this morning. He sounded rushed, but careful when he was talking, not like his usual laid back sound. 

I pulled on a pair of shoes and grabbed my keys. I kept telling myself they were just running late, or they went out to dinner, but I just had to check the Winchester home, just to make sure.

My Mustang tore down the road as quickly as the speed limit let me, 25 miles per hour just didn't seem fast enough. I pulled onto their road and eventually reached their house. The top of the house was completely dark and there was a single light on in the front room. I slammed the door behind me and slowed my pace to a quick walk to their front door. My hand was curled into a fist and I was about to knock when I heard someone scream from inside, the words were illegible, but it sounded like Dean. There was another voice yelling back and then a smash.

I knew knocking was pointless now and I opened the door, not bothering to close it behind me. I immediately ran to the living room and saw Dean and John screaming at each other. They were both so loud that I couldn't tell what either of them were saying to each other. Just as my mouth opened to yell at them to stop, John's head snapped to look at me. His eyes glared with disgust and pure malice. 

I was so taken aback by his sudden poisonous glare that I ran into something behind me, no, someone. I turned around quickly and saw Sam behind me, who looked completely traumatized, but he still stood strong.

"Cas you need to get out right now." Sam grabbed me by the arm and was dragging me to the door. Despite the fact that I was five years older than him, he was much taller and had much more muscle than me. 

"Sam, let me go!" I begged him, but his grip was not about to loosen. I felt a fire burn in my stomach and I knew I was going to regret this. I brought my arm forward and pushed it back so it jabbed Sam in the lower abdomen. I heard a burst of air rush out of him and he doubled over. "God, Sam, I'm sorry." I sat him down on the ground quickly and then ran back into the living room where John brought his arm back and backhanded Dean across the face. Dean didn't even look slightly phased by the fact that his dad just slapped him, he just looked pissed.

"I didn't raise my son to be a faggot," John screamed in Dean's face and then glanced back over to me, "and now you dare bring that  _thing_ into my house?" 

John wasn't even talking to me directly, but his words stung. My family knew that I was gay, but they were accepting and everyone I ever knew was accepting. The worst I ever dealt with was a few glares here and there or some people whispering around me, but it was never usually a problem. Hearing those words, brought a fire to my gut.

"This has nothing to do with him," Dean spat at his father, "you just blame me for every fucking problem in your life. You think everything is my fault somehow." 

I felt so powerless, standing and watching this happen. I wanted to move forward and get in John's face. I wanted to defend Dean and tell him that his dad was a dick, I wanted to push John to the ground and tell him that there was nothing wrong with being queer, but slapping your son across the face was a real issue. There was so much that I wanted to do, but I felt paralyzed. I could do nothing.

"That's because everything is your fault," John sneered and grabbed Dean by them hem of his shirt, "everyone would be better off if you were never born." John shoved Dean back against the wall and a picture frame fell onto Dean. The corner hitting him in the shoulder, making his face contort in pain.

I don't remember even moving, I don't remember stepping away from my spot in the door frame, but the next thing I remember was my hands on John's shoulder, shoving him back into their wooden coffee table. Rage burned inside me and the lining of my sight was blurred blackness. The only thing I could think about was John Winchester pleading for mercy from me, I wanted nothing more than to make John Winchester pay for doing these things to his son. Dean had never told me how bad it really was. 

I was incoherently yelling things at him, screaming at how he wasn't the one who deserved to be dead. I was yelling horrible things that just sounded like static in my ears. A pair of hands grabbed my arms and pulled me off of him and was pulling me out of the house. As I was stumbling out of the house I saw Dean run after us, so I could only assume it was Sam who had dragged me out.

My mind was still buzzing and adrenaline was still rushing through my blood, but I heard Sam say, "Drive to your house, we will be right behind you. Drive slow, drive safe." and then he let me go. I turned around in time to see him running towards Dean who was bleeding and fuming. It took me a moment to realize that Sam was bleeding too. His eye was bruised down to his chin and his nose had blood running down from it. I realized that the reason Dean and John were in a fight was probably because Dean was trying to defend Sam. 

I got in my car and drove away, trying not to look back at that house. It was something I did not want to remember.

 

When I got home, Dean and Sam arrive about five minutes after me. I was pacing in my living room waiting for them to walk in. I needed to know why this happened, I couldn't stop myself from thinking about it. It was contaminating my mind and it would never leave until I figured out. 

Sam was practically dragging Dean inside; I couldn't tell if it was because he was hurt or just did not want to be here. It sounds self-obsessed and horrible, but I hoped it was the first one.

"Do you have ice?" Sam asked as he finally brought Dean to the futon. 

I nodded and rushed into the kitchen to grab ice for them. I heard Dean yelling in the other room at Sam. 

"I told you I don't need fucking ice!" Dean yelled. I hoped no one upstairs or across the hall was hearing this. The last thing I needed was to get a notice for being too loud, or worse, an eviction. 

I brought out some ice and handed it to Sam. He tried giving it to Dean but he just shoved it away. "Don't need fucking ice." Dean muttered and stood up to pace around the room, Sam and I did nothing but stand and watch. It was all we could do, Dean wouldn't let either of us in. 

"You know what the real problem is here?" Dean snapped around to tell us. Sam and I just glanced at each other, worried about what he was going to say next. "It's you." Dean stormed over to me and jabbed me in the chest. "If you didn't act like such a fucking fairy all the time I would not be in this problem, we," he motioned to Sam and himself, "would not be in this mess."

I stood agape, Dean says a lot of things, but this was one I never expected.

"You and your stupid little poems and sob stories, well you know what Cas? Grow up." He spat, I was about to reply when he turned back around. "So what if I didn't like you, boo fucking hoo. Maybe if you didn't act like such a pansy, you wouldn't have this problem." I glanced over at Sam and he looked uncomfortable, but also disappointed. A part of me wanted to lash out at Dean and tell him he was just having daddy issues and that he wasn't the only person in the world with problems, but I knew that wouldn't solve anything. Instead the part of me that took over was the submissive side, the side that just wanted everything to be okay. I would even consider it the side that would start to believe it.

"You don't mean that, Dean." I started, but I knew Dean wouldn't let me finish.

"The hell you mean I don't mean it?" Dean retorted, "I didn't need you to come  _protect_ me Cas. I can handle myself, you just made things worse. I don't need a faggot like you to defend me." Dean grabbed the nearest item, my glass cup, and threw it against the wall. It shattered into hundreds of pieces and hit me in the back of the neck.

"That's  _enough_ Dean!" Sam stepped forward. I looked over at him and his chest rapidly shook as he spoke against his big brother. I assumed he had never done it before, so he didn't know how Dean would take it. "This isn't Cas's fault."

Something inside me felt broken, there was just something that didn't fit anymore. I felt sick, I felt like I was going to throw up right then and there. Heat was filling me and I was being cornered. Dean was pushing me into something that I didn't want to go back to. The underside of my skin itched and I felt like if I didn't grab onto something, I would just fall right over. 

Dean rolled his eyes and walked towards the door. "I don't need this, I don't need you," Dean spat, "I don't need you Cas, can't you see that? Don't come back to me with your sad little poetry about how much your fucking life sucks, because I don't care that you're broken Cas. No one cares that you're broken."

The wall in my mind that I had built so well was crumbling beneath me. Every emotion that I had locked away was breaking free and taunting me with their cruel words. I opened my mouth to reply, but once again, Dean beat me to it. 

"Yes, I do mean it Cas. I can't deal with this anymore, we-" he stuttered for a moment, waiting, then he continued, "we're just done."

I didn't realize I was now sitting. I was on the ground, my hand was bleeding, probably from me touching the back of my neck where it was cut by the shattering glass. The previous sick feeling turned to emptiness and burning. I turned my head just in time to see Sam running out the door after Dean. A voice in the back of my head was telling me to just fall over and go to sleep, I would wake up soon enough and this would all be over. Dean would come back and apologize because he didn't mean it. He would say that he needs me and he cares about me and that it was all just bottled up anger towards his dad that came out. 

Another part of me was telling me to drive, because this was reality. It was saying get in your car and drive far, far away where no one could find you. If you're gone by tonight, no one could find you and you can become a new person. 

The final part was the piece of my mind that was hidden behind it's wall since sophomore year of high school. It whispered in it's soothing voice that I knew where the pills were and I knew where the bottle of liquor was. It was saying to do it, because it was something I've wanted for so long, that this was just a distraction. Dean was just a distracting from what I really wanted. It taunted and scratched, waiting for me to fulfill. 

I was crying, I felt tears slipping down my face and landing on my hands. I got up and grabbed my keys from the table. I ran downstairs until I got to the parking lot where Sam was just returning from. He tried to grab me but I just screamed at him. I screamed at him to let me go because I had nothing left here. I told him that I couldn't write anymore, I told him my family wasn't here so I couldn't go be with them. I told him I didn't have Dean anymore, and he was my last reason to stay. I didn't want to hear anything he had to say. I pushed past him and started my car, and then I just drove.


	6. June 7th, 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't posted in a few months, I meant to get to this sooner. Things have been busy for me lately.   
> Only a few trigger warnings this chapter:  
> Things that relate to depression
> 
> Enjoy!

My first instinct was to go into panic mode when I woke up and didn't know where I was. Had I gotten amnesia again?

That was my first thought, but I then realized that I wouldn't remember having amnesia if I had amnesia. 

I'm just confusing myself now, I can't write that much because the doctors told me they would come back in in a minute and I don't want them asking about what I'm writing. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I woke up in a hospital bed with several tubes connected to me. You could understand why I was freaked out. 

Anyway, I am tired, and I don't really want to be conscious right now. I am going to try and fall asleep and hope everything is better when I wake up.

* * *

 

Gabriel explained everything to me, or so I thought. He finished by saying that Dean drove away and I did too and I've been gone for months. Slowly I remembered cramped motel rooms that were stained with the smell of smoke and liquor. I remembered driving without thinking. Looking back at it now, I am lucky I didn't kill someone or myself. When I looked back at Gabriel, he looked uncomfortable like he had something else he wanted to say.

"What, what else is there?" I pressed, but he shut his mouth and shook his head.

I disregarded it and instantly went back to thinking about Dean. "So where is he?" I asked Gabe, "Is he still in Kansas? What about Sam? Gabe, I need to find them as soon as I can." I stood up from my spot in the desk chair and paced around the room sporadically. I felt restless and needed the constant feeling of moving, otherwise I was convinced I would explode.

"Dean is still here, in Kansas," Gabe muttered, "Sam is in California at Standford. I don't know about anyone else though."

My jittery feeling exploded inside me, Dean was here. I would have my chance to apologize, I would, finally. I could explain to him that it was a mistake that I left and everything would be okay. 

I hoped he felt the same way, I hoped all that he said was a lie. It had to be, it just had to be. 

"What's his phone number? I'll call him and we can meet up and talk and everything will be better, why are you looking at me like that?" I asked Gabe who had a look of distress on his face.

"I don't have Dean's number, but I'll call Sam. I'll see if he can come out and we will work things out from there." Gabriel explained. I felt bad to have Sam come all the way out here when it wasn't really necessary.

"Don't have Sam come out when he doesn't have to. Just text him or call him and ask for Dean's number. We don't need Sam to come out for this." I explained, but Gabriel just shook his head and pulled out his phone. 

"We need Sam, okay? Hold on a minute." Gabriel walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. I heard the lock click and I pressed my head against the door to listen in. I couldn't make out much of what he was saying, but I heard him say that I was back.

"Need to.... possible... He doesn't... I think.... he'll have too...." Gabriel's hushed words kept breaking apart making it nearly impossible to make any sense of what he was talking about. Gabriel saying 'Goodbye' went through the door and I stepped away to make it look like I wasn't listening in. When he walked out he smirked at me, "I never took you for an eavesdropped, Cas." he laughed forcefully. I felt my cheeks redden.

"Sam said he would get a flight as soon as possible. He won't be here until tomorrow evening though, so we still have some time before we have to pick him up," Gabriel told me and I nodded in agreement. "what do you say we get something to eat and see where that takes things?" 

I couldn't find words to disagree with him, my stomach wouldn't settle and I didn't think I would be able to hold any food down. Since this was the first time I had seen him in months and he got a plane out here just to see me, I decided I couldn't really say no. So I agreed to go with him and we went to a nearby diner.

The whole time Gabe was talking about how life was while I was gone, trying to take my mind off of Sam and Dean, but it hadn't worked in the slightest. I occasionally commented on some story he was telling or nodded in agreement, or even occasionally laughed at something he said, but my single thought never wavered or left my mind. The only thing that I could possibly think of was the fact that tomorrow I was going to see Sam and Dean Winchester for the first time in however many months, and I was finally going to be able to make things right.

* * *

 

Sam had arrived at the airport a little bit before five in the evening. Gabe and I drove separate cars there, although I am not sure why. Gabe drove a rental and I was in my Mustang. I followed him there and we parked next to each other, then continued to walk into the airport. We waited at Gate E until we saw Sam sticking out of the crowd like a redwood in an orchard. I wasn't sure what I was expecting when I saw him, but it wasn't what happened.

When he saw us, he kept his pace, but I could tell he was rushing to get over to us. Once he was within ten feet, I felt a smile grow on my face. I was about to say hello to him when he dropped his bag on the ground and wrapped his arms around me. Something about the way his arms squeezed me and how it lingered made me feel sad. I had left for a few months and I had just completely abandoned everyone here, but what else was I supposed to do? I pushed the thought out of my mind and hugged him back.

"I'm so glad you're here, oh my god," Sam eventually pulled away from me and the rims of his eyes were pale red, "do you realize we thought you were dead?" His tone took an angered turn and the rest of his face was growing red. I immediately turned to Gabriel, shocked. He had never told me that they thought I was dead. Why did they think I was dead? I just left, all I did was leave, right?

"I didn't tell him." Gabriel admitted timidly. I turned back to Sam who looked like he regretted his words. He sighed deeply and picked up his bag again.

"I'm sorry Cas, just when you left and didn't tell anyone anything, we only assumed the worst. You didn't answer our calls. You just, disappeared." Sam explained to me, but something about this didn't seem right. I wasn't like that, I had to have had a reason. I wouldn't just leave and not talk to anyone anymore.... would I? "What do you say we get something to eat and then we will talk?" Sam offered.

I nodded in agreement and we began to walk out of the airport. Once we got to the cars, Sam put his bag in Gabe's car and he asked me if he could drive the car. I uneasily said that he could, I felt a bit uncomfortable having him drive my car, but he probably remembered the area better than I did. I was still fuzzy on some things. Before we got in the car I asked him when we were going to see Dean. Gabe looked up from his palms to Sam and he avoided eye contact with me.

"We will see him later," Sam said slowly and went to get in the drivers seat, but I stopped him quickly.

"Why does no one want me to see Dean?" I demanded an answer. I felt vexation growing in my gut, I just wanted a straight answer. "Come on, why is everyone treating me like a kicked puppy?" I raised my voice and began to pace around. Sam and Gabriel stayed silent, which only pressed me to talk more. "I saw Meg, and she said everyone knew why I left, and she was surprised that I came back. Jo, Meg and you," I motioned to Gabriel, "all asked me if I was okay like I am about to lose my fucking mind, why is everyone doing that? I'm not crazy and I'm not damaged besides some memory loss, so why is everyone acting like this?" I yelled.

As soon as the words left my mouth in a fit of rage, I knew I was going too far. They both had gotten planes out here just for me and I was exploding in front of them. I opened my mouth to apologize but Sam spoke first.

"Gabe, why don't you go. I'm going to take Cas to see Dean."

Gabriel nodded and got in his car and then drove away. I was left standing with Sam, waiting for him to say something. 

"Let's go." Sam said flatly as he got in the drivers seat. I quietly got in the passengers seat and didn't say a word. I was spending too much time thinking about what I was going to say to Dean, how I was going to apologize and make things work, I planned out everything on the ride there. The farther we drove, the more abandoned the roads looked. The grass on the side of the road was becoming more overgrown with weeds and the road turned from pavement to compacted dirt.

Sam turned right onto another completely empty road. He pulled up against a black gate that surrounded the property and parked the car. I looked out of the window, confused. 

"Sam, what are we doing here?" I asked, Dean wasn't here.

"Cas.." Sam started, but I was quick to cut him off.

"Sam, this isn't funny, I need to see him." My voice was beginning to crack, why were my eyes watering? He was lying, he was lying to me.

"You ran away but you need to come to terms with it now." Sams voice was gentle, but in my mind it was all screaming. Why was he hurting me like this? Why would Sam of all people play such a cruel joke, I didn't find it very funny. 

"Stop," I begged him, "please just take me to see him." I felt tears slipping out of my eyes and my voice was caught in my throat. I wanted to scream at Sam, I wanted to tell him that he was being childish and hurting people wasn't considered a funny joke.

"Get out of the car, Cas." He said.

"No," I replied inaudibly, "Sam,"

I wasn't looking at him, but I heard him unbuckle his seat belt and get out of the car. I didn't want to turn my head to see where he was going, I couldn't look back. The door next to me opened and I couldn't faintly see Sam crouching on the ground next to me. I finally looked over at him and his face was straight, there was almost no clear expression, maybe besides disconsolation.

"He wasn't supposed to.." my words cut off in my throat, and I had come undone. 

I punched the dashboard as hard as I could and let every emotion leave me at once. Anguish, regret, depression, malice, they all came at once.

"He promised me, he promised he wouldn't fucking leave!" I screamed at no one in particular. Then I just screamed, I continued hitting the dashboard in front of me and kept hitting until I ran out of energy to do so. Inaudible cries hung in the air as Sam unbuckled my seatbelt and tried his best to get me out of the car. He walked me out of the car and through the gate. We stopped at the far end of the property and Sam disappeared beside me. I don't know where he went, I don't even know when he left, but I was alone. I was completely and utterly alone, because Dean Winchester died the night I left, and I knelt at his gravestone, and I knew that I was completely alone.

I didn't want to stop crying, I just wanted to curl up and fall asleep. I read the words inscripted on the cold slab of stone that was meant to give comfort. They do the exact opposite, they are stone, they are emotionless, inscripted with words that may have meant something to someone at some point, but soon erode away and become nothing. The words at the bottom of the stone, where there is usually a meaningful quote, the words "And I didn't mean one goddamned word" were printed.

"Why did you have to go and get yourself killed you son of a bitch." I cried to him. I wished he could hear me, but all my hope that there was some sort of afterlife was completely drained from me in a single moment. "Why couldn't you have just stayed?" I didn't hear Sam walk back towards me, but I felt his hand touch my back in a caring way that only certain people could. 

The only emotion that I could feel was dread, and dread always leads to becoming tired. 

"Cas, whenever you're ready to go, we can go." Sam told me, I heard him say it, but it never registered. Sometimes soft tones and comforting words don't work. Sometimes all you can do is cry, and just pray that the pain will be over soon enough. 

I might have stayed at Dean's grave for minutes, it might have been hours, I didn't keep track. Eventually I got up from my spot and walked back to the car, but my legs didn't seem to be working correctly. My ankles felt sore and my knees buckled beneath me. Everything was moving in slow motion around me and my vision blurred and went dark very quickly. Sam ran out of the car and sprinted towards me, and that was the last thing I saw before I hit the ground and the world became dark. 

* * *

 

I woke up and lights blinded me, the room was almost pure white, with occasional splashes of a dull grey from a picture frame. My first instinct was to panic; I had no idea where I was and I was still alone, or so I thought. An alarm went off in my head when I saw a needle sticking out of my arm and there was a beeping noise from next to me. My breathing was becoming shallow and rushed, when I saw Sam sitting in the corner of the room, fast asleep.

"Sam!" I cried out hoarsely. His name stung in my mouth and it came out sounding dry and cracked. I repeatedly called out his name until tears were streaming down my face. I was in so much pain and memories were rushing into my mind, there was a newscast about a '67 impala being struck by another car and then pushed into yet another car. I remembered drinking bottled of alcohol that burned my throat and I was letting myself go. I swallowed pills and I cried in the shower. I drove around aimlessly hoping there would be some place that didn't remind me of him, but there was nowhere I could go.

"Sam!" I sobbed and he finally stirred from his deep sleep, he looked towards me and became alert. He shot up from his seat and rushed over to me.

"Cas, are you okay?" He asked, but I wasn't. I couldn't speak, I could hardly move. I shook my head and my heart rate monitor spiked. My vision was giving out on my again and I started crying more. All I could feel was thousands of weights pressing against me from all directions. I felt like I was being compressed, stretched, lit on fire, and dunked in ice water all at once. I couldn't breathe and I felt like the world was crashing around me. 

I was going in and out of consciousness when Sam was screaming for someone, anyone. Doctors and nurses all ran into the room trying to attend to me at the same time. All I could do was watch, until I finally just fell back into unconsciousness. 

* * *

 

When I came around, there was a nurse standing in front of me, taking notes. She glanced up and noticed that I was awake.

"Well hey there, you look better than you did before, are you more comfortable now?" She asked me in an overly nice tone. I knew she was trying to help, but the thought that anyone besides Sam and Gabriel being in here made me sick to my stomach. I nodded my head in reply to her.

"We have a therapist coming in soon to discuss things with you. She will talk to you about how you're feeling whenever you are ready to." She explained to me with a nice smile. I nodded once again and let my head go back down to the stiff pillow. I was still incredibly tired, and I was trying to convince myself that the more I slept, the better chance I'd have of waking up and finding out this whole thing was a huge nightmare.

* * *

 

It was the next day when the therapist finally stopped by. Gabriel and Sam had both stopped in by then and I was feeling more up to talking, not a lot, but some.

I was drinking a sip of water when the woman with ruby colored hair walked in.

"Hey Castiel, how are you?" She asked me, she wasn't wearing a nametag, so I just stared at her for a moment trying to think of an appropriate response. 

"My name is Anna Milton, but you can just call me Anna if that's okay with you." She explained, I nodded subtly and replied to her previous question.

"Well Anna, I am feeling fantastic. Absolutely wonderful, I could run a marathon, I could create world peace, I could end hunger. I could do it all." I enthused with obvious sarcasm. She chuckled a little bit.

"You're lying, aren't you?" The first thought that came to mind was 'No shit, I just found out... remembered the worst news of my life and then passed out, then woke up and had a panic attack, then I woke up again. So I am feeling like absolute shit right now.' but I decided that wouldn't be the best response. She was here because she had to be.

I just nodded, "Yeah, I'm lying, because that's the only thing I can do that will stop me from falling apart." I admitted. I hadn't planned on admitting it within the first three sentence that I had ever spoken to her, but it was bound to happen at some point.

"Then tell me how you're really feeling." She said, and I thought.

I thought, and I wondered, how the  _hell_ am I supposed to tell her how I'm feeling, when I don't even want myself to admit it. I pursed my lips a bit and then bit down on my bottom one. I've noticed that when I'm nervous, I do things that distract me from my thoughts, like biting my lip, or tapping my fingers.

"I.. am feeling like it's the end of the world," I started, "I feel like there's really not any reason I should even be in this state because there's nothing left for me here. I am feeling like my world is crumbling around me, because it is. I just remembered that the love of my life died and I just left, and didn't bother looking back. So all in all, I feel like complete shit. Thanks for asking." I felt my nose running and tears were beginning to fall down again. I sighed and wiped them away, I hated crying. 

She jotted a few things down onto her paper and then clicked the pen closed. She folded over the paper and set it aside. She pulled the chair closer to me and took her hair down from it's strict looking bun.

"Hi Castiel, I'm Anna and I am not your therapist anymore. I'm just Anna and I just want to talk, because I know that things are hard right now, and it's okay to cry about it. Tears remind you that you are alive, not that you are weak. Everyone cries, but not all will admit it." Anna spoke like a person, not like the nurse did with her fake happy attitude and optimistic smile. Anna spoke to me like I was someone who had been through hell and like I was a person, not a patient. Something about the fact that she didn't lighten the situation, already made it better.

"Hi Anna, I'll be honest with you, I hate therapists, and I am really glad that I don't have to talk with one." She laughed timidly and smiled sympathetically. 

"So Castiel, I know the facts, I know about Dean and that you think it's your fault, but I don't want to hear about the fact that you think this is on you. I just want you to accept it and forgive. I think the best way that you can forgive, is just to come to terms with Dean's death." Anna suggested, and suddenly I didn't think I liked her so much anymore.

"I can't do that." I stated bluntly. 

"I'm not asking you to do it right now, I just want you to realize something, this was not your fault. Say it." She beckoned me.

I opened my mouth, but no words were coming out, I couldn't.

Anna smiled and repeated herself. "This was not your fault, you have to say it at some point."

I nodded again and sighed deeply, I closed my eyes hoping that it would help somehow. I imagined Dean looking at me and saying it was okay. That it was all okay, because he knew I forgave him, and he forgave me. 

"This was not my fault." I whispered and felt a tear drop onto my hand. 

I wasn't ready to open my eyes, I wasn't ready to let the image of Dean go yet. He was all I had left.

"Good, that's progress believe it or not."

My eyes remained shut.

"What are you thinking about?" I heard Anna's voice ask quietly, like she was trying not to disturb my thoughts.

"Him." Was all I said.

I heard her reposition herself on her chair. "I'm not going to ask you to forget him, I'm not going to ask you to say it outloud that he is gone, but I do want you to do one thing, and I will be on my way." I waited for her to continue, I still hadn't opened my eyes. 

"Promise him that you won't blame this on yourself, and that you will let yourself get better."

I felt myself crying, I couldn't stand the fact that I was crying so much. I thought about her words, I thought about Dean. I thought about being able to forgive myself, and then my mind brought me to my old apartment building.

I was laying in bed and there was the warmth of a body next to me, I didn't have to look over to know who it was. I knew it was Dean. His arm extended over to me and turned me onto my side so I was looking at him, and god, he was so beautiful. His freckles were sprinkled across his nose and the rest of his face, and his eyes were genuine and bright. His smile was happy and so real, I had to reach my hand out and touch his face one last time. His skin around his jawline felt rough and peppered with stubble. His hand extended out to my face and he touched me too.

"You promised me you would never leave." My voice cracked in his wake, I tried convincing myself that this was real, but I knew it wasn't.

"Well I'm here aren't I?" He smiled in the way that makes me fall in love with him again and again. "Cas.. promise me that you won't stay like this forever, you have to let yourself get better, for me."

Even in my own happy dreams, I cried in pain. "Dean, I don't want to forget you. I don't want to let you go yet." Tears soaked the pillow that my head was laying on. Dean's calloused fingers wiped underneath my eyes and led the tears away.

"Then don't," he spoke softly, "forgiving doesn't always mean forgetting. I'll always be here Cas. I'll be right here, waiting."

"I'll promise if you do."

Dean nodded and smiled while more tears stained his fingers. "I do."

"And I do."

My eyes opened and Anna was gone. Despite the room being empty, I really didn't feel all that alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will likely only be one chapter after this! Hope you guys liked it!


	7. June 11th, 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!  
> Hope you all have loved it, it was a blast to write and share with you.

I followed Dean outside after his temper tantrum to stop him from leaving, but he was driving away by the time I got outside. I turned around to go back in by Cas, but he was already running outside and going to his car.

"Cas! Wait!" I yelled and tried to get in the car with him, but he locked the doors. He put the car in reverse and sped off down the road.  I tried running after him but my feet were nowhere near the speed of a car. I stopped halfway down the road and began to pace, I had no idea what to do. I was left stranded without a car and I had no idea where either of them were going. 

Then I remembered Dean's spot. 

Dean always had a thing for this aquarium, and he never told anyone why, but whenever he was upset or needed to be alone he went there. It didn't even have to be open, I thought he just liked the reassurance of driving by it, not necessarily going in. So I started running, and I ran for as long as I could. My legs ached and burned with each step I took, but I knew if I wasted time, Dean wouldn't stay there forever. When I thought of this, I put on a burst of speed. 

My feet carried me down the road as fast as they could go. I took a sharp left and sprinted. I kept going until I saw lights, headlights, headlights that were standing still. There was a car parked on the side of the road and someone was jumping up and down waving their arms like a madman. I just kept running, I ran forward towards the parked car when I saw what they were freaking out about. The front of their car was bent and crumpled. On the other side of the road there were two cars that were in worse shape. One was a van that had the whole side crushed like a candy wrapper. The other was an Impala. 

It was a 1967 black Chevy Impala with four doors and a hard top, and my heart just dropped. 

"Dean!" I screamed and ran forward, my feet were carrying me as fast as they could, but it just wasn't enough.

The person on the other side of the road was a woman on the phone with what I assumed was 9-1-1. She was frantically sobbing and trying to explain what happened and where she was. I ran over to the Impala and saw that it was flipped on its side, crushed like a can. I continuously screamed for Dean, trying to find him in the car. I found him, unmoved in the front seat. I was about to become relieved, but then I saw how bad it really was. 

Glass shards were stuck in his face and arm, the dashboard was crushing his legs. His whole face was bloody and it looked like he was bruising already. I noticed the worst last, there was a giant shard of glass impaling him in the gut. He looked lifeless, he looked like he wasn't there anymore.

"Dean!" I screamed as loud as I could, but it still just didn't feel like enough. I kept yelling and screaming until he twitched slightly.

"Sam?" He cried, "Sam, I can't feel anything. I can't feel anything." He frantically repeated.

Dean was the only person in the world who never seemed to express pain, he cried, he whined, he complained, but he never made it obvious he was in pain, but this was the exception. His screams were laced with agony and fear, I never could have imagined anything worse.

"Dean, people are coming right now. You have to stay awake, fuck, please just stay awake."

His only reply was a scream of pain, I wanted to plug my ears and hide. 

It felt like years for the police and firefighters to arrive, but in reality, it was likely closer to four minutes. When they finally arrived, they used the jaws of life to open up the car that Dean was trapped in. I was forced to stand away and wait, it was torture.

An ambulance was opened for Dean once they got him out of the car. He was still in agonizing pain, based off of his screams. When I saw him being wheeled into the ambulance on a gurney, I ran over next to him and begged the paramedics to let me get on with him. They always let family on, always, they couldn't let me not go on.

"Please, I'm begging you, you have to let me on." I cried out to the paramedics who were wheeling him on, they quickly exchanged glances with worried looks. There was a disgruntled sound coming from Dean, they turned to him immediately. 

"Leh 'em in" He grunted. 

It sounded like he was saying 'Let him in' and that's exactly what they did. I entered the back of the ambulance with Dean and the paramedics, then we went straight to the hospital.

On the drive there, I held Dean's hand. It was something I've never done before, so it felt weird, but I didn't care. There was nothing more I wanted than for Dean to come out of this, and goddammit he was going to.

The paramedics were working on trying to save him and all I could was listen to the constant commotion and try and focus on anything but the fact that Dean was dying right in front of me.

I felt a squeeze on my hand.

"Sammy?"

"Dean, stop talking, don't." I turned my attention to him, he needed to save his energy, he couldn't waste it on talking to me.

"No Sammy, listen," he demanded, "I'm not gonna make it." His voice cracked as he admitted it. 

"No, Dean, you're going to make it and-"

"Sam shut up for once in your- life." he stuttered, choking on his own spit. I did. "I need you to tell him," he began wheezing and gasping for air, "tell that I, didn't-" his heart monitor spiked and the paramedics began to work double time. They cut around bloody areas on the shirt and were attaching all sorts of needles to him. "I love you Sammy, and him." he choked and the paramedics were starting to say things I didn't understand, it scared me. "and- and I didn't mean one goddamned word."

His heart rate monitor flat lined. 

The paramedics brought out an AED and took the rest of the shirt off of Dean. They attached the pads and called 'clear' one shock went through, no change. 'Clear' was called again, another shock, still no change. It happened again and again, but there was never a change, the line was flat, and my brother, Dean Winchester is dead

* * *

 

Sam finally decided it was time for him to tell me what the line on the bottom of Dean's grave said. He told me about how he found him and went in the ambulance with him and how he admitted that he didn't mean it, that he still loved me. I felt like I wanted to cry, but nothing ever came, to be honest I think I was out of tears. Ive been so used to crying for the past week that I don't have the urge to do it anymore. I'm also not scared to anymore, Anna helped me with that.

I occasionally still see Anna, but not often. Sam takes me out sometimes, with Jessica and him. They talk about a lot of things, but I still feel like they are walking on eggshells around me, but I think I will be okay. In fact, I am okay. 

The fact that Dean is gone makes me wish I had stayed, but I can't change the fact that I didn't. I've learned how to forgive myself though, but I won't forget. I won't ever forget Dean Winchester.

* * *

 

_I fell asleep better than I had in a very long time, I always have one place that I know I can go when I'm falling asleep._

_The dome shaped room was completely empty , save for me. I stared up at the jellyfish that floated around without a care. Their bright colors illuminated through the room making the normal dull colors lively._

_I stood and stared in awe and the beautiful colors around me, when there was a light touch that brushed against my hand._

_He wasn't holding my hand, but it was just enough to know he was there._


End file.
